Of Scars
by Yanrev
Summary: Plants need time to bloom and unravel into something beautiful, as do relationships of all kinds, but thorns and wilting are sometimes not completely taken into consideration. A What-If between Botan and the kitsune that once was and the man that now is.
1. Prologue

So it's been a billion years since I've written anything and I all of a sudden this story just came and stuck so I felt compelled to write it. I'm totally trying to stick to writing stories with only ten chapters (not including the prologue and epilogue lamely) that are all (roughly) under 1,000 words to see if I can possibly finish them. I took a lot of liberties with this story, but hopefully they're believable and you all enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><em>"Rather a clever Epigraph than a practiced Prologue."- Kurama<em>

A sense of timelessness in countless days, Love makes one feel as if they have an eternity.

That they can become ageless because they have this Love, this omnipotent thing that is everything.

Love is Life, but honestly, it isn't.

Love is incorrigible, but Life is beautiful.

Life is something worthy of clinging too while Love is nothing more than a worthless dream for a person that cannot truly grasp the concepts of Life.

Love cannot refill emptying veins, nor keep the heart from being pierced.

It cannot quench dire thirsts or mortal hungers.

It cannot heal garish wounds nor ease losses and consequences.

It cannot prevent illness, murder, and destruction.

Love is a powerless, fickle thing that Ningens clamor to because they find with it common ground.

Flawed and weak as they are, Love means more to them because it represents their single-mindedness.

I believe in Life, and I am doubtless that life too believes in me, but if I were to become inferior in my thoughts like that of the Ningens and believe in this idealistic Love, I would be haunted by the fact that it like all things has an expiration date.

And that honestly, Love is completely and dangerously irrelevant in regards to Life.

-_Youko, the sole survivor of the kitsune_.

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><p><em>Ningen<em>= Reference to mortals; humans.


	2. The Mistake

I think I need to probably elaborate on something; I consider Youko to be the original kitsune that lived in Makai, Kurama to be the infection of the embryo of Minamino Shuichi, and Youko Kurama to be the complete merging of the two of them. I don't want anyone to be confused so I thought I'd try to clear it up before hand.

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><em>"The Mistake is not knowing you're mistaken, and the Truth is not knowing when you're lying." -Youko<em>

There was no light to be had within his type of darkness, and as he breathed he could not rid himself of the stench of his own foolishness. He had crossed into uncharted territory for pride and had been captured and chained like a dog as a result. Or perhaps a guinea pig, these particular yōkai found him to be an interestingly perplexing specimen, one worthy of observations and experimentations. Unbeknownst to him, kitsune were creatures straddling the edge of extinction and rapidly becoming nothing more than glorified myths. An idea that would've been laughable mere decades ago, but the information given to him seemed too detailed to be anything but factual. After all, with his distractions, when was the last time he had run across another kitsune?

His lips pulled into a tight snarl at the thought, unbothered by the empty findings his mind was producing. He cared not for the likes of others, brethren and loyalties were for childish endeavors and clueless romantics, and he was neither. However, he was certain that he was going to be a personal prize for a time scope of no more than three months, and despite the flashes of confidence he displayed whenever his captors came around, he was also well aware that his time was drawing to a close. He was foolish for getting himself into such a mess, but he was not fool enough to believe that he was going to get out of said mess without ending his life or being gravely injured. These yōkai were specialized, trained in the art of youki extraction and some sort of unknown surgeries that his instinct told him were a far cry from medical. He also noted that the decay on the countless corpses and skeletons littered about him seemed perhaps centuries old, so they most certainly were not amateurs.

Suddenly his ears twitched at the faintest of sounds, causing his train of thought to still like that of his body. He did not lift his head, although his curiosity was peaked when the swift whiff of sandalwood and something more familiar intruded his space. That added scent had no chance to truly baffle him as he felt a sudden thrust of pain race up his spine and overwhelm his consciousness. He struggled mentally to fight the lure of fainting, his chained hands twitching and grasping violently at air subconsciously, but he was unable to stop his body from reacting. A dark, desperate growl escaped his lips as his body began to lull forward, held steadfast by the solid bounds that dug into his flesh and connected to the stones of his cell. He was tempted to scream out as every bone in his body seemed to slowly incinerate and the pain became so much grander than anything he had ever felt in his millennia that it was seducing his every nerve and thought. There was no sign of numbness or a misplaced sense of peace before his senses completely escaped him, and there most certainly was no flash of his previous time of living to distract him from the excruciated throes that met him up until his final breath.

There was simply _nothing._

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><p><em>Yōkai<em>= A demon or demons.

_Kitsune_= Fox spirit or fox demon.

_Youki_= Demon Energy, Ki, or Powerlevel.


	3. The Last

**To Smexy Kitten and Donna Rossa: 3 **Thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy the future chapters to come. ;)

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><em>"To be the Only is to one day face losing the challenge, but to be the Last is to conquer and become the challenge." -Youko<em>

**Five Days Later…**

He had been far heavier than she had expected, but still she had made well on her strength and borrowed heavily on her determination to rescue him and get them both to safety. She had been tracking him for months now, and after finding out about his capture, worked diligently for weeks thereafter to execute her plan for his liberation. She was utterly exhausted, but since she had settled him down for his restoration he had been completely lifeless for five days and she refused to leave him unattended to. She cared for him, bathing him twice a day and nourishing him as best as she could through IVs due to his condition, afraid that any slight deviation on her part could end his life. But now she knew that she would have to step up her game, she would have to remove the contraption covering his face and feed him solids or else he would completely become dependent on mere machines. She was afraid though, more than she had been when infiltrating the compound that held him captive, here was not some helpless sap of a man that had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

No, here was a being capable of extreme chaos and obliteration, one that was victimized only to his own pride and egotistical manner of thinking. Even still, despite the countless coats of blood he had bathed in and the astronomical and historical mayhem he had had part in, he was also a being that was the last of his race. And sympathetically, was perhaps unaware of the fact even still. She sighed deeply, delicately rubbing her temples to stave off the pains that were brought on by sleepless nights and tedious days, readying herself for the task at hand. With a renewed vigor she quietly padded to the comatose kitsune, gently working her fingers through the complex contraptions that were nearly surgically installed on his face. She had to be careful as her fingers weaved and disassembled, but she also had to keep up pace else it would completely attach itself to his face and overwhelm his recovering body. Sweat slowly began to trickle as she began easing off parts and setting them aside, but it instantly began to cool as the face beneath was revealed.

With a little extra force she removed the final piece and set it aside to take in what was beneath, wincing lightly at the small indentions that were scattered randomly from the machine's slow attempts at complete integration, but overall completely satisfied that she had spared him whatever other horrific ideas his captives had for his face. She then began to peel away at the strange film that was to help graft the contraption to his face, finding it an easier process once the freeing of his hair was all that was remaining. Once she had removed all of the film, she was taken back by the sudden explosion of lengthy silver tendrils that seemed to overwhelm nearly the entire length of his body as well as the bed that he rested upon. The initial shock forced her eyes to drink in just how handsome he still was despite everything that he had gone through.

Sure, his body had been in the process of an extreme mutilation and some weird disassembling process when she had stepped in, but the damage that she had repaired was certainly nothing close to irreversible and his powers would certainly take care of the scarring for the most part. Still, she had never seen a kitsune up close, nor had she ever been around a being of this particular magnitude. Utterly transfixed, she lightly began to trace the strong angles of his face in wonder, and then trailed up to the lure of his ears. She giggled silently as the soft but strangely firm ears began to twitch beneath her touch, and from there felt bold enough to run her fingers through the long bangs that completely obscured his face. Apparently there was complete heaven to be found as she marveled at just how silky and fine the hairs were beneath her touch, noting that despite his savagery and the cruelty he'd endured the kitsune must ultimately be far too high maintenance to still look this good. At this thought she couldn't quite find the power to suppress a giggle, but when her gaze travelled down it died in her throat.

All that glitters isn't gold, but these eyes most certainly were, and they spoke volumes of unspeakable evils.


	4. Lost and Found

**Note: **It's been a while since I've updated, and for that my apologies. To Smexy_Kitten and rubyred517, thank you very much for reviewing, I hope this chapter does not disappoint. ;)

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><strong>Five Months Later…<strong>

Although he had completely recovered physically and his youki was almost completely recovered, it still felt as if it were only yesterday in which he had originally awaken in the woman's care. After startling her during her close examination of his features, albeit a bit too thoroughly despite her hot denial, she had taken the time to continue to care for him but at a distance. She only spoke if and when spoken to, and even then was particular about what she would voluntarily answer. Sure, she had informed him of many things that she deemed relevant, but not once had she ever disclosed anything personal about herself. At first he was completely unbothered by it, kitsune weren't creatures that craved constant companionship and he had more pressing matters to focus on –himself being the main, but as days turned into weeks and weeks into days it became unsettling. After a few months had passed and he became more independent, her presence began to dramatically dwindle until it seemed she was nothing more than a phantom. Uncomfortable with this arrangement, he would try to engage her in any fashion that he could, but was usually rebutted by a sharp act of silence or a questionable and shockingly swift get away.

Today, however, he was going to take a more _expected_ approach to rile her up. After all, he could always smell the faint linger of fear on her, and if she refused to fall for his charm then she would crumble from his bite. He was waiting patiently for her arrival to his courtiers of sorts for the daily checkup, knowing that this was the only place in her odd compound that he could be certain she would be. His ears perked immediately with the silent echo of her footsteps coming down the hall towards his room, and he sat up and stared disinterestedly elsewhere to keep his intentions from being so obvious. He caught the secretion of sandalwood and that other familiar scent that he still could not directly place, and felt her gaze fall hesitantly upon him. He held back a snort and an eye roll, knowing that her hesitation would prove to be fruitless once his plan was played. Still, like the predator he was, he waited for her to come close enough to kill off any chance for her to high tail it. He waited, and waited, and waited until it seemed as if time was becoming a nuisance.

Impatient with the overbearing weight of silence, he sharply turned his gaze to her, only to find her gazing back intently at him. Or rather studying him, and whatever she had been searching for seemed to be confirmed once their gazes met because she turned on her heel to fly out the door. On pure instinct he leapt from the bed and reached out for her, barely missing her as she zoomed out the door and stumbled into the hall. Cursing slightly, he made a mad dash after her that led them into the den, and with an unapologetic force, he made his way behind her and grabbed her waist, sending them both crashing to the floor. Knowing to cancel out her quick reflexes immediately from a previous lesson, he tangled their bodies together and applied his weight as soon as he straddled her, his hands taking a harsh grip on her wrists and pinning her to the floor. He felt her rough thrashing cease once their eyes caught, but he was a bit disappointed when she made no move to scream out or divert her gaze and break their connection.

He indeed had smelled her fear, but had mistaken its power for that of something else; disgust. With a flare of annoyance and a sudden sadistic need, he allowed his solid fingernails to dig into the soft skin of her wrists, enjoying her struggle to keep the pain at bay. "Onna," his voice was dark, deep, and husky as his golden orbs cut into her, "I don't think you quite understand the situation that you're in. You risked your pathetic life to recover an infamous yōkai, signed away any small freedom allotted to you by housing said yōkai, and then utterly and completely go out of your way to offend this dastardly yōkai by ignoring him." He paused a moment, taking the time to read any expression that crossed her face but unable to find any, "Inferiors, those of both ningen and yōkai lineage are not given such luxuries, so considering that I have sparred you of all negativities you are obliged to obey-"

"If you really think that I'm so inferior then how shameful is it to know that I, an inferior ningen, rescued you, an infamous, dastardly, superior yōkai?" Her own annoyed outburst caught him completely off guard, and with the element of surprise, she easily used what little leeway he gave and pushed him off of her. Catching himself, he grabbed her wrist and was nearly rewarded with a hard slap to the face had he not caught it. Pulling her close, he couldn't help but smirk at the sudden ferociousness of her struggling, all until she gave him the most brutal head butt he'd ever had in his life. Snarling, he was then once again momentarily caught off guard by the chime of her laughter, the same hypnotic sound that he had awaken to when she had removed that kami forsaken contraption from his face. There she was, electric blue hair tussled from its high ponytail, small, pouty lips pulled back in a contagious grin, large wisteria colored eyes with thick lashes catching the dew of silly tears.

"Onna-"

**He** was _Lost_…

"Botan. It's Botan."

…But _she_ was **Found**.


	5. Heart's Owe

**Note: **Forgive me, I know it's been forever since I've last updated, but I'd like to thank any and all who've stuck with me regardless. To show my thanks, I have another chapter for you all! 3

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><strong>Eleven Months Later…<strong>

The two of them, despite their initial differences in the beginning, had fallen into camaraderie of sorts. They coexisted with one another, living their lives separately when outside of the compound, but coming together as one once they had stepped foot inside the threshold. This particular evening the kitsune became aware that despite their set up, he still found Botan to be a complete enigma. During their time together he had never learned exactly what Botan did whenever she was out of mind and sight, or why she was in Makai instead of Ningenkai. What her life was like before their paths had crossed, and what exactly made her feel the need to do what she did. Or how the hell she survived in Makai without any youki or yōkai consort for that matter, which actually provided such a profound annoyance that it ruined his mood and made him revisit past conversations to prove her elusiveness.

He frowned deeply as he lowered his eyes, causing deep creases to appear across the otherwise smoothness of his forehead. This whole time he'd thought they were on common ground and while that little bitch was ducking and diving around information, he was warming up and baring himself unknowingly like some sort of..of..NINGEN. He began to growl darkly, utterly disgusted with his behavior and with the woman for her ingenuity, but also for that fact that he **felt** _betrayed_ because she wasn't being genuine with him. Never had his tongue betrayed him, and when all was said and done he knew that something was amiss. And just like that, as if the message had been telepathically sent to her, Botan too knew the same thing as she stood frozen behind the entrance to the compound, hand tensed on the door knob. She had just slightly cracked the door when the electricity of her intuition shot up her spine, and as she slowly tried to ease it shut Youko's cool voice halted her.

"Inside onna," his golden eye peered down at her through the slit of the door and she had to fight the urge to turn tail and run, "we've got to talk." His eye disappeared from the crack, but she knew that he had only moved enough so that she could open the door without hitting him, or so that if she did decide to run, he'd have more than enough time to overcome her. Inhaling deeply, she found the courage to completely open the door, step through, and seal her fate as she closed it behind her and secured the bolts. She could feel his gaze piercing through her as she finished each of the seven bolts, and somehow knew that there was no way that she could dance around him anymore. She sighed and turned on her heel, greeting his icy stare with a wary smile. When he made no move, she began to walk towards the den, keeping her head up and her posture as normal as possible to keep from giving him any possible satisfaction.

Before she could properly take a seat he had thrown her down to the couch and invaded her personal space with his closeness. "**Now**." There was no question to be had as he spat out the command, and bared the exquisite sharpness of his teeth, and certainly no foolery for her to persuade him with. She struggled only momentarily before giving up and allowing her head to fall back against the armrest. "You haven't been completely honest with me either you know, I'm not dumb enough to think you're out saving virgins and engineering world peace." In response, he allowed his left hand to crawl up her arm, claws shredding the fabric of her sleeve completely as it did so, stopping at the bare, tender flesh of her throat. "Fine, fine." She sighed in defeat, "I had been tracking you for some months before you were captured by those other yōkai which was why I knew exactly where you were, and as far as what I do when we're not together, I research and scout Makai."

"But how? Craftiness alone is not enough to keep a ningen's life to himself, and even still you most certainly are not a him. _Who_ are you really onna? _What_ are you?"

"I'm not a ningen as you can see, nor am I a yōkai. Actually, I saved you because like you I'm the last of my kind, but unlike you I'm not sure what my kind actually is. I have no recollection of anything, no leads and no traces, hell I'm not even certain that my name is Botan. I was comfortable around ningens because they found no reason to shun me due to the lack of eccentricities in my appearance, yet at the same time I felt alienated because I was simply parading about in this endless masquerade. So I left and stumbled here like Alice."

Although listening intently, his eyebrow raised at her reference and he remained silent.

"Never mind Youko, but honestly I'm trying to figure out if I have lineage in Maki. It feels right, as if I am supposed to be here, but that's the only connection that I have here other than you. You don't owe me anything, and while I'm not asking something extreme, I am asking you to trust me." She lifted her head and stared intently at him, searching his face for something more than the nonchalance that weighed heavy on her heart. Instead of facing her, however, his gaze was elsewhere, and suddenly his weight altogether was lifted and heading out of the den and towards his room.

"_Youko_."

He paused at the sound of her voice, ignoring the entwining of hurt and approaching heartache that laced it.

"You're right, I don't owe you anything."

And with that he disappeared and left Botan to her own quiet breakdown.

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><p><em>Kitsune<em>- Fox Demon/ Spirit

_Makai_- World of Demons

_Ningenkai_- World of Humans

_Youki_- Demon Spirit Energy

_Yōkai_- Demon

_Ningen_- Human

_Onna_- Woman


	6. Unknown Known

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><strong>Fifteen Months and Five Days Later…<strong>

When she had abandoned the compound four months prior, she was sure that she would never have to see the silver haired kitsune ever again, but apparently she wasn't as sure as she thought. Five days after he had cornered her and she bore what she felt she could, he refused to even be within one hundred feet of her and made his outings longer and more frequent. Initially she was hurt by his breaking of their routine, but gradually she accepted it for what it was and began scouting for a place to relocate. She wasn't a yōkai, but she also wasn't anything close to helpless when it came to her dealings with other yōkai. She never pushed her luck and kept to herself for the most part, but she was a woman, a seemingly ningen beauty at that apparently, and that within itself meant that she had no time to even think about the role of a damsel. She continued her research, finally catching a break with a run in of an overzealous kyūkonki that gave her quite a bit more than she could've ever hoped for.

And so, she had moved into a place for civilian yōkai, trying her best to appease the locals so that they would perhaps feel at ease to tell her anything they knew about the information she had been given. As time rolled on, she was beginning to piece everything together, from the name of her people to their reported place of residence, and although it was based off of goodhearted legend and speculation, she couldn't help but feel excited. Apparently her kind had kept records of their culture and every single detailing of their history, from all the births that other races would deem insignificant to the many wars fought and lost during the course of their lineage. If it were all to be true and she could find this place intact, then she would go through every volume she could just to see if she could possibly have a jolt in her memory. Of course, she had no idea if Botan was really her name, but she would deal with the negativities once she could confirm the legitimacy of this place and its' lost people.

At this current time of night she felt the urge to indulge herself in a bath, a luxury that she perhaps only had when in the company of Youko during their time before everything went to hell. She sighed and ran a calloused hand through her hair, noticing just how hard she'd been treading for the last months, chasing hot leads and ignoring her bodily needs for fear of a trail getting cold and missing out on something vital. She disrobed and stepped into her tub, submerging herself until the tip of her chin felt the char of the nearly boiling bath water. She closed her eyes and allowed all thoughts to leave her mind, inhaling the therapeutic oils that she had been given as a house warming into the small town as the aches and strains slowly worked their way out naturally. "Fancy seeing you here, I thought it was beneath such a superior being to be caught peeping when it could be indulging in some high class kitsune-onna." Her voice was low enough to keep from an echo, but not nearly enough for him not to hear her.

She felt his hands on either side of her face and tensed, unsure of his intention as his strong, rough palms smoothed down her cheek to her neck, but instantly relaxed when they made no move to travel any deeper into the water. "I am," His husky voice tickled the lobe of her right ear, "an entity that can indulge in anything I so choose, be it some high class kitsune-onna or some unknown known." She leaned her head against him, smelling his earthly tones amongst a variety of malice and sex, but feeling comforted by them all regardless. "Youko," she muttered softly, "what do you want from me?" She felt him tense so lightly that it would have surely been missed by even the keenest of people, but she was different, and she knew that she was his unknown known indeed. "I finally recognized that underlying, puzzling scent that you secrete."

"Wait, what-"

"From the moment that you came to me during my captivity, to the passage of time that lead up to today I had noticed it, and honestly I had accepted it as yours because I became…things became habitual. But with your cowardly departure-"

"Now wait-"

"I have finally been able to pinpoint exactly what was so familiar about that scent, what was driving me so wild when I could not clearly dissect it, and honestly I now know why it bothered me so. It's a scent that drives me, one that I am so accustom too that it almost seems as if I am its sole creator, but now onna, it's a scent that haunts me. It's the scent of Death."

She could feel the strength of his arms surrounding her, could feel the unusual pattern of his heart vibrating into her back, and could hear the harshness of his breathing. She could tell that he was completely serious, and for the first time during their exchange she had opened her eyes -only to be greeted with bath water tainted with thick crimson.

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><p><em>Kyūkonki<em>= Soul Eater or Sorts


	7. Domesticated Heart

**Author's Note: **I have not forgotten this story! Once again, I'll be giving two for the price of one! ;) I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for the devotion, it means a lot. ;)

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p><strong>Fifteen Months and Fifteen Days Later…<strong>

There was nothing to be had with her death, no soft requiem sonatas to lull his soul, no rain to add to the melancholy of the time, and no persons around for retribution, even if ill deserved. No, there was nothing but bitterness to be had, an ugliness that only those that had ever experienced true agony and sorrow could agree to, and a solitude that spoke volumes of how easily loneliness is written off as insignificant. This was what true loneliness was, this indescribable range of viciousness that overwhelmed him, and this too was heartache. He held her as close as he possibly could, running his fingers through the full length of the electric blue strands he had come to appreciate as his face too disappeared within them. His body was interrupted by slight seizures as he rocked gently, pulling himself away from her veil to glance down at her face. There was something so horrid about it all, something unfair as he searched for more signs of actual death. Although there was no rising of the chest or small puff of air, her face was misleadingly natural and calm as if she were merely sleeping. Where were the cruel palettes of pale blues and purples to dot her cheeks, or the pasty pigment that always seemed swift once the blood had gone cooler than ice? Where was the gore of murder, and ripples of injustice that plagued every crime scene that was not of a natural cause?

Where was this scent of Death that had followed her so faithfully like a lost puppy to a stranger that granted it a simple act of kindness?

"_Onna_," His voice would not betray him, could not, but his heart now had such an insidious disease, "**Onna**. _Botan_. **BOTAN**." He could not breathe, but he was aware of all things even if he wished to be otherwise, and so he was not taken off guard when another presence took to the sidelines. He made no effort to acknowledge the person, picking up the woman and obsessively keeping her to his person as he began to head back to his lair. "I wished to have met this ephemeral creature that had so easily tamed the great Youko's heart and unknowingly bid him into a sort of domestication." He stopped momentarily. "I'm sure she'd have done the same to you, Kuronue," he called over his shoulder, "and you'd have perhaps gone more willingly and would've had her for an eternity."

"Perhaps," the koumori took a few steps towards his best friend, "or perhaps fate would have drawn her sooner had we instead had crossed paths. You did not tell her kitsune? It's not like you to not indulge."

"She'd have sooner tried to return what she had taken and release me back to the wild had I done so."

"Or she'd have had you to fill the void within her own heart and been content enough not to indulge herself to this."

The anger in Kuronue's voice irked Youko, but as he turned his head back his own temper simmered, apparently the anger was simply for his well being. Despite the painful pulse that it caused him, he threw a weary grin at his friend, "Her curiosity was too great, and like me, she never would have been satisfied with a substitute. The longing for completion would have either consumed her or drover her mad. She wouldn't have had me regardless, and even if she had put up with me for a time, she would have abandoned me for another or had come to resent me for all that I was not."

"It's too late for all these liberties and what-if scenarios my friend, I'm guilty of having high regards in your ability to deal with matters of the heart knowing that you are unaccustomed to even having one let alone allowing another to take it. But, now is not the time Youko, mourn her and then live for the both of you. You've taken a burden, now it's time for you to man up and come to terms."

The kitsune turned slowly around so that his friend could take in the sight of Botan, and at Kuronue's nod of approval, he turned back towards his destination and set off into the night, vowing to learn the secrets of this cursed paradise that Botan so desperately sought so that he could damn those that slay one of the most precious things he held above Life itself.

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><p>koumori= winged demon or bat-like demon<p> 


	8. Of Patience and Sloth

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape, or form do I own or even attempt to claim that I own Yu Yu Hakusho and its characters or plots. I do, however, own the storyline and events that are relevant to this story outside of the cannon. ;)

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><p>"For those five days that I was comatose, you would chat aimlessly."<p>

"Hm?"

"You would sing to me sometimes, and make these ridiculous jokes that you would laugh at so heartily. I swore that when I was finally in the realm of the living I would listen to you laugh all day, and make love to you all night because of how hypnotizing it all was. I knew that any sound that you would make would be worth any repetition, even at my expense. You were in my subconscious it seemed the entire duration of those days, so that begs the question, did you ever leave my side Botan?"

Bright emerald eyes stared quietly at the deity lounging lazily before him, twitching lightly at her dismissal of his entire conversation as she sat with some irrelevant ningen magazine absorbing her face. "Botan, I would greatly appreciate if you would pay me mind, it's considered rude if you ignore live company." She muttered something along the likes of 'just one sec' and Kurama felt his usually impenetrable cool starting to dissolve at a shocking pace. After all of these countless, treacherous millennia in Makai and long nineteen years, four of which actually had included her but had been far too eventful for him to act, in Ningenkai, when he finally had reestablished himself within her life she couldn't find the time to put down a magazine. Of _all_ the most immaterial and ignorant of things for her to choose to occupy her time with while he was attempting to spill his ancient, well overdue confession, she had chosen a magazine, and he felt offended.

"Botan, please." His fingers began to strum the armrest of his seat as he stared at the woman before him, noting how the only differences that he could make was that her hair was much longer and that she radiated a surprisingly aged wisdom in her beauty that had only been a rising potential before she had died. Surely others would miss it and only notice the prettiness encouraged by her girlish charm, but he knew better, and his eyes were tuned to her every fine detail. She was fitted in a pastel yellow jumpsuit that did well to spark interest at the shape beneath but bared nothing more than subtle hints left for imagination and off white anklets, her shoes no where to be found as far as he could tell. She was bare of make up and jewelry save for a controversial ring suspiciously on her wedding finger that Yuusuke had given her two years ago, a subject that had caused many endless arguments, hurt feelings, and unresolved tension. He frowned at the clouding memories, quickly pushing them away as he returned his attention back to the woman before him. _Still _reading that damn magazine.

"BOTAN!" He roared, startling her so badly that she not only dropped the magazine, but she lost her heart beat for a good minute or two. She breathed rapidly to catch herself, never quite noticing the flame haired youth leaving his seat to kneel before her. She pressed her palms to her temples, rubbing them gingerly from habit as her heart finally caught a normal rhythm, and opening her eyes only to see Kurama unashamedly interrupting her personal space. Unknowingly she leaned back into the chair as far as she could go, cautious all of a sudden despite the friendly terms they had been on since their initial meeting four years prior. "Kurama, what is your problem? I mean, what the heck has gotten into you?" She was more flustered than annoyed by his outburst, unaware just why he had done such a thing. There had been plenty of times in which she had read magazines in his presence, and usually he'd simply occupy himself with some other means until she was finished.

Still, this familiar blaze that painted his eyes unnerved her, and when he made no move to speak she began to sweat ever so slightly. She began to open her mouth to lighten the mood but stopped when Kurama began to slowly move forward, closing the distance between their faces and seemingly aiming for a kiss. Her heart began to accelerate and she felt an immediate wave of weakness hit her, but even still her mind was racing with possible escapes. She knew that she only had a few seconds to make her move, but even still there was a possibility that he would anticipate it and block any exits. It was his strong point after all, but maybe if she-

"HEY B! Wanna go to the mov-WOAH. What the fuck?"

"Yuusuke!"

"Yuusuke."

Although not one to be caught in compromising situations, Kurama had no intention of letting up in his pursuit of Botan, of course leave it conveniently to Yuusuke to ruin said pursuit. He made no attempt to hide his expression of utter annoyance and sheer murderous intent, but when he felt Botan squirming beneath him, he had no choice but to let up and allow her freedom. He watched with growing irritation as the deity all but flew into the detective's arms as if he were some sort of savior, noting that the other (unbeknownst to Botan but of course) was showing him the same disfavor. His eyes briefly flashed gold, and in response Yuusuke put up his free hand and mimicked his trademark Spirit Gun. The two smirked at one another before parting ways, Yuusuke accompanied by Botan, and Kurama in his solitude.

For now, patience was a virtue, but sloth was a sin.


End file.
